


tied down to her

by annalila



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic, Light Bondage, Ties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 11:29:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/722777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annalila/pseuds/annalila
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I thought we could try something a little different tonight,” Lizzie says as she kisses him along his jawline... “I want to see just how much I can make you beg me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just some Dizzie to tide us over until Monday, because we all know that Darcy would submit to anything Lizzie asked of him (and also that Lizzie wouldn't ask too much of him). This should be fully posted within a few days.
> 
> Disclaimer: Neither LBD nor P&P are mine!

They've been reading for awhile, Lizzie an old favorite novel and Darcy the new financial reports, when she puts down her book and gently takes his papers away from him. She sets both on the coffee table and stands up from the couch, holding out her hand. He starts to protest but catches the look in her eye and quickly reconsiders, and instead follows her down the hall to their bedroom. He kisses her fully as soon as he's closed the door, his tongue opening her mouth, and she presses her body against his, reciprocating his passion and need.

After a few minutes, Lizzie breaks back from the kiss and looks up at him. "Do you trust me?" she asks, her voice quiet but firm, her hands resting on his shoulders.

Darcy looks down at her, his hands steady at her waist, and nods. He does: they've worked out their words, know what to say to make the other stop, or to go. But he also knows he has no choice in the matter, really. She holds his heart completely in her hands. He has to trust her, and he does. "Yes," he responds.

She gives him a small, almost mischievous smile, and takes a step back, breaking from his hold. "Take off your clothes," she softly commands him.

He acquiesces, stripping himself down to his boxers without rushing, unbuttoning his shirt, unzipping his pants, never breaking eye contact.

"Get on the bed," Lizzie orders, and he obeys, unquestioning, pulling the covers off and lying back on the mattress.

Darcy watches as she takes off her top, dropping it to the side, then unzips and steps out of her skirt. He's seen her in her underwear before, but the sight has yet to cease to amaze him. Her matching dark purple and cream lace underwear contrasts with her pale skin, and he can't wait to take them off her. She walks to the bed and he reaches his hands out for her, but she catches his wrists and smoothly pulls his arms up above his head as she steps onto the bed. Before he knows what's happened, she's looped some silky piece of fabric – a tie? – securely around his wrists and knotted the ends, tying him down to the bedframe. She straddles him, one knee on each side of his waist, and leans down, her mouth at his jaw. He hasn't even had a moment to be surprised, but it's catching up with him now.

"I thought we could try something a little different tonight," Lizzie says as she kisses him along his jawline. Her fingers have already begun to run down his body to his shoulders and chest, and he breathes a little more intensely and less evenly. "I want to see just how much I can make you beg me."


	2. Chapter 2

Her words alone are enough to make his breath catch, never mind what her mouth is doing as it traces his artery down his neck, controlling his pulse. He already wants her. They both know that he’ll hold out for as long as he can now that a challenge has been issued, but they also both know that his resistance is low when it comes to her. 

His mind goes blank for a moment as her mouth closes around the spot at the base of his neck that always draws a reaction, an involuntary “Oh,” escaping his lips as his head tilts back. His arms are tense as they strain against the tie, as he reaches to hold her even though he knows he can’t. He wants to kiss her, but her mouth is too far away. Her fingers massage his shoulders as her mouth aims to map every inch of his collarbone. He can feel himself growing harder, wanting her more as she skims across his skin.

Lizzie’s fingers make their way down to his chest. She’s alternating between deep and light touches, and the contrast is driving him crazy. Eventually, she finds his nipples and begins to touch, rub, pinch, roll them until he starts to moan. 

“Oh, yes,” he whispers, his voice low. They both know that this doesn’t count as begging, know she hasn’t broken him yet, but it’s a response nonetheless. She drifts her fingernails over his chest as she slowly, methodically moves her mouth further down. His breath hitches, sharply drawing in air, when her tongue lazily explores his breast. His back starts to arch to meet her mouth, and she catches his nipple in her teeth and draws her head back, not quite biting, just enough to keep tension. She sucks down on his nipple, her mouth hot and wet, her tongue flicking hard over its peak, her teeth at its edges. Then suddenly, she releases him and lightly blows a stream of air across it. The contrast between the temperatures is almost painful, but so pleasurable. He can’t help it: he moans again and pushes his chest toward her more. 

She slides her hands around to his back and runs her fingernails from his shoulders down to the base of his spine just hard enough to scratch, taking advantage of the new space between his back and the mattress. His breathing has become erratic, and he starts to whisper her name over and over. “Oh god, Lizzie…” He wants to touch her, to run his hands all over her, to kiss her. His hands grasp at the tie, just for something to hold on to, even if it’s not her.

Eventually, she leaves his chest, and her hands precede her mouth as she moves further down his body. Her fingers are splayed out over his ribs, then over his stomach, moving, touching, feeling him, and her tongue follows after, tracing each bone. He’s almost panting, the slow pace too much and not enough all at once.

She moves her hips back, positioning herself lower around his legs. He watches as she runs her fingers below the waistband of his underwear, then slowly, slowly, peel them back, running her mouth along the newly exposed skin, until she finally pulls them fully off. She looks at him with an almost evil smile, full of devious intent. He can only return a look of want so clear and vulnerable that she smiles more. 

She pushes his legs apart settles herself between them. Her hands pick up where they left off, her fingertips running up his thighs and then everywhere over and around his groin, over his hipbones, in the space where his legs meet his body, everywhere but his erection. She’s touching everything but him, and all he wants is for her to touch him. 

Darcy closes his eyes and bites his bottom lip in an effort to keep from giving in, from saying too much, from letting her know just how much he wants her, but his body is betraying him. His chest is pressed out, his arms are tense, his hips are starting to move of their own accord, and he can’t control the noises coming from his throat. She lowers her head again and bites the top of his hipbone, then traces it down with her tongue, and it’s suddenly too hard to keep holding out. “Oh god, Lizzie, please,” he whispers, the words escaping his mouth almost on their own.


	3. Chapter 3

Darcy knows that Lizzie’s smiling, now that she’s won, now that she’s found his limit. But she doesn’t release him, and instead continues to lick along the ridge of his abs. 

“Please what?” she says, in the same soft, controlled voice, pushing him further.

He tries to hold back, to not give everything away at once, but he can’t. Now that he’s started, he can’t keep himself from begging, asking, needing her. 

“Please touch me,” he breathes, then says it again, stronger.

She doesn’t, immediately. She moves her mouth down to kiss his inner thighs, still moving her hands. All he can do is pant and plead and pull his wrists against the tie. If his hands were free, they both know that he’d be touching her, teasing her, trying to make her feel as good as she’s making him feel. But she’s keeping the focus all on him, on his body, making everything more intense and powerful. 

She leans up, looks at him with a wicked smile on her lips, then runs her hand along him, from bottom to top, just once. He can’t even breathe for a moment, can’t even process how good it feels, can’t even stop his body from straining toward her. He moans, loudly, desperate for her. She swirls her thumb around his head and he gasps, “please…” 

But she stops there, removing her hands, and places her knees around his hips. He looks up at her, sure she can see the disappointment and desperation in his face. But her eyes hold his gaze evenly. He watches, eyes wide, as she bites her bottom lip, just a bit, and runs her hands from her waist up to her chest. Her fingers spread out over her bra as she firmly grasps her breasts. “Oh, god, Lizzie,” he moans. She smiles and moves her hands around to her back, unhooks her bra, and tosses it aside in one fluid motion. He stares openly at her chest, completely entranced, watching as she takes her breasts into her hands and kneads them, teasing her nipples until hers are as hard as his. His hands almost reflexively open to cup her breasts, but he’s too far away. 

Lizzie starts to rock her hips against his, and the pressure of her against him is overwhelming. It’s nearly unbearable, to have her so close and still not be able to touch her. He needs to hold her, to kiss her, to feel her. She rolls her head back, enjoying herself, enjoying torturing him. “Please let me touch you,” he whispers. “Lizzie, god, please, let me touch you, please.” He’s panting, his mouth is dry, and he’s barely getting enough air, but he can’t bring himself to care, to think about anything other than her.

Slowly, as he watches, she runs one hand back down her body to her panties, then slips it inside. Her eyes close and her face shifts as she starts to touch herself, just for a minute. Her mouth is wide, her breathing rapidly becoming more ragged, and it’s almost too much for him. “God, I want you so much,” he cries out. She slides her hand out from her panties, then pulls them down off her body. She leans over to the nightstand to pull out a condom and slides it onto him as she watches him. 

“I want you,” he tells her again. “I want to be inside you. I need you, Lizzie.”

She lowers herself onto him and his mind goes completely blank as his eyes close. Every thought, every word, everything that isn’t her fades out, and all he can do is feel her everywhere around him. Her hands are hot against his chest, and her hair falls against his neck as she leans down to kiss him. She goes slowly at first and then he’s begging again, asking her for more, harder, faster, please. 

Darcy moans, “Lizzie, please,” as she rocks into him over and over and over, as he pushes into her deeper and deeper and deeper. He holds on for as long as he can, but eventually finds himself almost ready to break. He can tell from the noises she’s making that she’s close as well. “Lizzie, can I come? Please let me come,” he pleads, knowing that he needs to beg her, that she controls him in this moment, that she controls him in every moment. He asks again, barely able to get the words out, but she hears him. 

“Yes,” she whispers intensely. He pushes up into her as hard as he can, then can’t wait any longer. He comes with a gasp, his muscles tensing then finally releasing, and he feels her clench around him as she comes, too, breathing his name. She collapses on top of him as the tension in his body fades away and he sinks into the mattress, everything but her erased. 

 

After a minute, she reaches up above his head and unknots the now stretched-out tie, allowing his arms to flex and relax, then slowly come forward and wrap around her, holding her tight to his chest. His breathing hasn’t fully recovered, but he can’t wait any longer. Darcy draws her head up to his and kisses her, softly but thoroughly, leaving no room for doubt. “I love you,” he tells her, and Lizzie smiles back at him. “I love you, too,” she says, then smirks, “Sorry about your tie.”

He laughs. “I’m not,” he says, and kisses her again.


End file.
